The Story About The Bleeding Popsicle

Yes, this does sound like a title of a horror story. It is, actually, a real story in my life. To be clear, now that I’m in my 30’s, I am very much less self-conscious than I was in my teens and twenties. You’d do anything to seem cool when you were young. I was into the “alt-cool” phase which was the “I’m too cool to care about what I look like” which was a weird kind of style.

Anyway, I’m not sure if this story is me trying to look cool, and more of me trying not to panic in front of my friends. But this is a story about me ripping off the skin of my lips trying to look cool.

This is also why I haven’t had a popsicle in years. But damn those things are delicious.

Thinking about popsicles reminds me when I moved into my first apartment in Israel and it was 5 girls living in a 3 room apartment (one literally was in the closet) and we had to move after a year because our landlord was a total dick. Fun fact: I tried to contact the landlord to ask when the contract was over, because it was unclear, and he made a lawyer call me back who didn’t speak English and I had no idea what he was saying. Landlords, man. Anyway, we had to move out all the furniture, including the fridge. Some people who have never moved a fridge before don’t know that you have to defrost it at least 24 hours before the move. And remove everything inside of it.

Not to brag, but I am an expert fridge cleaner. So, I was tasked with dumping all the foods from the freezer. Since it was an Israeli apartment, it of course was stuffed with ice cream. I had a better grasp on my self-control back then (pre-corona) and had not ever bought any ice cream, or really anything that goes in a freezer. If you’ve ever had to share a fridge with roommates, you know there is never freezer room. And for some reason, when I saw all those containers of ice cream, I just …left them in the freezer. Maybe I figured my roommates would notice and dump them? I’m really not sure. So, I made the fridge super sparkling clean and left closed containers of ice cream so it in the unplugged fridge for a day.

Then when moving day came, guess what fell on the floor and made a complete mess!?

Anyway, now I have no qualms about dumping roommates food.

So back to the popsicle. Luckily, it was strawberry flavored. I’ll tell you why luckily when I also add that, just like sticking your tongue to a frozen metal pole, your lips will stick to a frozen popsicle and boy do you not want to unstick them. So, there I am, hanging out with my friends, and I bought a strawberry popsicle. I take a big bite and my lips get stuck. Oh dear.

There is no cool way to play off being stuck to a popsicle.

If there is, let me know.

I thought for a second I could just wait for my body heat to like, melt the popsicle a bit so I wouldn’t be stuck anymore.

But no, I just looked weirder and weirder and started drooling with this giant popsicle stuck in my face.

Are you cringing along with me!?

Anyway, I just got it over with and ripped my lips off the popsicle. Along with lots of skin from my lips. I made no sound to indicate this was happening. Then as my mouth began gushing blood, it luckily blended in with the dark red popsicle so I could use the ice to stop the flow. I then had to pretend to be eating the popsicle and enjoying the fun taste of frozen blood. There was no way I would allow myself to show any weakness in front of my sweet, kind of friends. Boy did I hate the taste of strawberries for a whole year after that.

English teacher by trade, story writer for fun